


ink & irises

by aleanmeanaquamarine



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Coffee, Coffee Shops, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Tea, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25323418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleanmeanaquamarine/pseuds/aleanmeanaquamarine
Summary: There’s a tattoo parlor next to Zuko’s flower shop.Now, that wouldn’t be any sort of problem in itself, but the tattoo artist next door is loud and cheerful and always comes in to buy flowers in the morning, only to leave them on Zuko’s doorstep right at the end of the day, complete with a note and a little smiley face.What is he meant to do with his own flowers, for god’s sake?Talk about tacky.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 396





	ink & irises

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in a camp nano craze i hope u like it! thank u to my dear friend Vallirenwrites for helping me come up w the title, go check her out :)

There’s a tattoo parlor next to Zuko’s flower shop.

Now, that wouldn’t be any sort of problem in itself, but the tattoo artist next door is loud and cheerful and always comes in to buy flowers in the morning, only to leave them on Zuko’s doorstep right at the end of the day, complete with a note and a little smiley face.

What is he meant to do with his own flowers, for god’s sake?

Talk about tacky.

Suki laughs at him when he puts the flowers in a vase by the windowsill, nudges him and winks every time the tattoo artist passes by, and—okay, yeah, maybe he’s staring at the guy’s biceps for a little longer than normal, but that doesn’t have to _mean anything_.

( _Damn_ , the way the ink stretches as he flexes should be _illegal_.)

The artist notices Zuko staring and raises an eyebrow. His cheeks go hot and he looks away, busying himself with wiping down an already-spotless counter.

That night, along with the bouquet comes a business card with a phone number on it and a scribbled “call me” on the other side. He tucks one of the loose flowers behind his ear.

 _Sokka Fisker_ is what the little slip of paper says. He rolls the name around in his mouth a couple of times and finds that it sounds right on his tongue.

Zuko tucks the card into his back pocket and walks home.

~~

It’s in the middle of the night that he texts Sokka.

He doesn’t give himself time to worry about if it’s weird or not, just shoots off a quick message that says, “you know it’s weird to give flowers _back_ to people, right?”

The speed of the answering _ding_ surprises him—it’s almost 1am, does this guy not _sleep_? He opens the message almost immediately, because anyone who says 

_sorry :( i didn’t know what you liked except for flowers_

Zuko shakes his head—it’s almost fond, despite the fact that he doesn’t even know the guy.

_you couldn’t have gotten them from any other store?_

_people always say yours is the best in the city!! i can’t be giving out mediocre flowers!!!!_

A smile tugs at the corners of Zuko’s lips, despite his best efforts. If he tries hard enough, he can even pretend that his cheeks aren’t hot.

_you’re a weird guy, you know that?_

_weird in a bad way?_

_no. i like it._

He sends the message without really thinking, lets impulse take over for a second. It takes a moment for him to realize that what he said was _definitely_ gay and _not_ at all subtle. He buries his face in a pillow and resolves to never look at the screen again.

_Ding._

_enough to let me take you out sometime?  
_ _as an apology. for being a dumbass._

Well, that was a good ten seconds of his resolution. Zuko’s responding before he knows it. 

_meet me at the cafe down the road—the one that makes really good mocha. tomorrow at seven._

He taps his fingers against his phone case before following it up with another text.

_i’m zuko, by the way_

There’s a second’s pause, and Zuko’s heart threatens to pound out of his chest as the ‘typing’ symbol pops up in the corner of the screen. 

_you’ve got a date :)_

~~

Zuko finds himself in the coffee shop at exactly six fifty-five am—five minutes early. He’s staring at his phone, leg bouncing underneath the table when a coffee cup slides onto the table in front of him. He looks up as Sokka settles down in the seat across from him.

“Morning.” Sokka smiles at him, way too cheery for the hour.

Zuko grumbles something that sounds only vaguely human, grabbing the coffee and taking a long sip. It’s hot—almost scalding—but he really can’t bring himself to care.

“Holy shit,” Sokka says with a laugh, “You are _not_ a morning person, huh?”

Zuko puts down the cup, sighing loudly. “The mornings are terrible and you can’t convince me otherwise.” He takes another sip of the coffee, slower this time, and looks at it appreciatively. It’s much better when he’s not practically inhaling it. “Hey, this is… pretty good.”

A grin. “Yeah? You said you liked mocha, so…”

Zuko takes a deep breath, relaxing at the familiar smell of coffee in the air. “Yeah. I’ve never had it like this before.”

“Me neither.” Sokka shrugs as Zuko looks up at him, confused. “Honestly, I like tea more than coffee.”

Zuko recoils. “T _ea_? Why? That’s just… leaf juice!”

There’s an affronted scoff from across the table. “Then coffee is just bean juice!”

“It is _not._ There are so many different types of coffee—”

“F _lavored_ bean juice—”

“Oh my god.” Zuko buries his head in his hands, a grin spreading across his face. “I can’t believe you don’t like coffee. Why did you agree to meet up at a _coffee shop?”_

Sokka shrugs, grinning. “I thought I’d try something new.”

“You’re _holding a cup of tea_ ,” Zuko points out, staring at the green tea in Sokka’s hand. Sokka pauses, looking down at it. 

_“_ Not _that_ different.”

“Unbelievable.”

Sokka laughs, warm and kind. Zuko thinks he wouldn’t mind listening to it for the rest of his life.

“Unbelievable in a bad way?”

Zuko shakes his head. “No. I like it.” 

This time, he thinks before he says it.

An alarm on Sokka’s phone goes off, and they both jump at the sound. Sokka silences it and stands, picking up his styrofoam cup.

“I have to go open up shop.”

“Me too,” Zuko says reluctantly, getting up and pushing his chair in.

“I’ll walk you back?” Sokka offers, and Zuko feels his lips tilt up into a soft smile.

“That would be great.”

As he closes up for the day, he finds Sokka standing at his doorstep, a cup of coffee held out to him. Suki pushes him towards the entryway. He accepts the cup—never mind the fact that it’ll be hell trying to sleep later—and closes the door to the shop behind him. 

They walk home together, and Zuko’s chest feels light as Sokka takes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> i know zuko's point about coffee is totally fucking invalid but i hc'd that he liked coffee better not that he had good reason to


End file.
